POEM - Governor's Mansion Grounds - Columbia, South Carolina

Bucolic antiquity
Lazy on a Thursday
High noon
Wandering manicured flora
Nearly alone
In the public spaces
Where paths lead to other paths
Interrupted by welcoming fountain gurgles

On this half of the property I am free
To walk in circles
Pass the same spot frequently
Stop and observe closely
Sit and ponder beautiful landscapes

The other half does not welcome
Just over there
A deceptively low fence
Surrounds the residence proper
Wrought iron thick with eons of paint
Taunts the adventurous soul
I size up the barrier
Sure I could make it in one good leap
Run to the door
Burst in to the foyer
Head for the kitchen
Have a feast of tax-purchased roast beef
On federally funded marble rye
But the sturdy hi-tech cameras
Like space-aged centurions
Look at me with unblinking knowing eyes
And without a wink nor a nod
The message is still received
This part of the garden belongs to a selfish giant
And it is guarded jealously

And there is no roast beef to share
In this clean and quiet and imposing abode
I should be content and happy
I have been provided with sufficient lands
To roam and get a taste of the luxury within
I should just let it be
I am on lunch break
I shouldn't get arrested today
But tomorrow is another day
I might just come back
Work up the nerve
Start the weekend off
With a little touch
Of trespassing excitement

POEM - Taxing

Like some aging conquistador
Tilting with windmills
I dream the impossible dream
Fight a seemingly unwinnable fight
Face the impenetrable facade
Attempting always
To unmask the ominous foe
And like those windmills
The foe notices me
Not at all

These are the stories
Born of a Munchausen syndrome
I invent to aid my journey
Help me to find interest
In mundanity
Pushing numbers
Representative of my efforts
As accounted by the company
A distinct dollar amount
That quantifies my existence
Signals to an indifferent bureaucracy
That I must now be weighed and measured
In the most convoluted procedure
Known to God or man
As I feel I have journeyed
To be counted in the city of David
Burdened by the cares of humanity
I offer on the alter
My unadulterated soul
Cast on the scales of mercy
And perhaps this year will prove different
The numbers will fall my way
I will not be burdened​
By my mostly unrepresented taxation
The figures will add up
My deductions and withholdings
Will cover my obligations
So I set my jaw
Take up my lance
And ride into the fray
To fell another windmill
In pursuit of the Ides of April
Road weary
Blurry eyed
Nearly defeated
But remaining resolute

POEM - Wit

Always wanted to be the funny one
The clever one
With a quick wit
And a snappy retort
To come off smarter
Sharper and swifter

At ten I was a legend
To myself only
Riding home from an activity
Next to my dad
He said the teenager
The one we had been talking to
Was really funny
I let him know I was funny
Right?
And that's when I learned tough love
No, was the reply
Not like that kid
He had a quick wit
Great delivery
Superb timing
I was still a kid
I did funny things
Could remember jokes
This kid was creating his own material
Working the audience
Playing off the mood in the room
I was funny for what I was
But this kid was hilarious

Oh, I see
Got it
Thanks for the input
The unbiased critique
I see where my logic was flawed
Making notes over here
Maybe we can circle back round
Take a meeting on this corrective action
Revisit my evaluation
Let's say in a month or two?

And just like when that guy told me
They don't need lawyers in heaven
I side-stepped another career path
Saved years of heartache
And switch comedian
To the hobby tract
In my mental filing cabinet
Took the elephant joke book
Off the top of my textbook pile
And moved it to the recreational reading

But it still burns inside
The desire to be the funny man
Be quick with a joke
Add levity to heavy situations
And laugh at myself and the world
Cross the road with the chicken
Knock on the door for the banana
Stock the Campbell's
Cream of Elephant Soup
For ready consumption
Whenever the mood is right

POEM - So What, So What

If I find you on the corner
So what
Or caught out in the rain
So what
And you may be looking my way
So what
And you may be in pain
So what
I can walk beside you
That's true
Maybe take your hand
And more
Dance a little closer
That's what
A shelter from the storm

And then we just fly
Around the town on wings of light
Lost in the rhythm
Of the sweltering night
A little fall of rain
Won't bring us down
This town may be trying for all it worth
To break us down
So what

We don't need no reason to be free
Or reason to run away
Just that we found one  another
Just that we both dance the same way
A stream of vision
Connecting all we see
I seeing you
The only light in a crowd
And you then saw me
So what do we care
If we cause a scene
The trumpets play
The bass keeps the walking beat
And we can't stop moving
From our hands to our feet
A slow roll
On the rising vibrato of a hip sound-wave
Saturated to our soul
Hot until its cool
And off we roll
So what
Off we gonna roll
On a sad blue note
So what

POEM - Doing Hard Things

"I like that we are doing hard things
Things we thought we couldn't
We just say we will
And we do
And I like that"
You say as we take the long way
Two whole laps around
The outer perimeter of the parking lot
Before heading in the store
Even though we got the sweet parking spot
Right near the entrance

It feels good to say those things

It feels good to hear them

And I get the feeling

So much depends

On doing hard things

Even on a rainy day

Glazed with rainwater

Beside your best friend

Even when 

Ya don't wanna

POEM – Night Walk, Yellow Moon

A few minutes of just us
A stroll around the settling neighborhood
Night newly fallen
Houses peppered with square bright eyes
There are these nights
When harmony seems distant inside
That we, just us, get out
Exert a little effort
Hold hands and talk of sweet nothings
Synchronize our mental calendars
Finalize pending logistical issues
Then just breathe
Enjoy the unbelievably pleasant weather
No bugs, slightest whisper of air movement
And a bright yellow full moon
Shining away for all it is worth
It is possible on these nights
To walk away from troubles
Leave tedium and triviality
To dissipate on the asphalt
Circle around and come up behind
Sneak back in our home
While trouble looks the other way
Find peace has wandered back inside
Took up a seat in the den
Poured a glass of ice water
Made the bed ready
Covered in sheets of moonlight

POEM - Just a Tickle

A tickle
In the corner
Back there
Hovering above my trachea
Irritating my uvula
A drying, mocking scratch
The early warning system
Calling out the news
Something isn't right
My whole soul
Sitting in solemn assembly
Trying to behave
Maintain a modicum of propriety
While a fierce battle rages
Teeth clenched
Amid convoluted machinations
In advanced suppression efforts
Then the conflict sharpens
Constricted neck muscles
A welling of tears
Shortness of breath
Until quaking convulsions
Burst through the fortifications
In a hacking roar
Ripping along soft tissue
A moist rocketing battering ram
Destroying peace
Shaking foundations​
Broadcasting the news
Of a losing skirmish

POEM - Dinner in the Time of Tornadoes

When the storm hit
We laughed and ran
Diving into the car
Stack of hot pizzas
To guard against impending doom
A ringing bird
Disturbed our reverie
The panic on the phone line
Was unwarranted
A result of TV ratings
And over cautious school boards
But serendipitous circumstances
Found the entire family home
Hunkering down
Crammed into the laundry room
Playing along with the emergency
As if there was something to worry about
All senses on high alert
Laughing and gasping
As the power blinked twice
The only real tragedy
The internet going down
For all of five minutes

Exiting the storm shelter
Once the real danger passed
The drone of the weather channel
Cycled through the same slow litany
Inciting widespread unconsciousness
As the entire household
Let out a collective sigh
And passed out dead to the world
All excitement forgotten
But still taking its toll
Until the dead arose
Dinner finally got made
The basket of emergency snacks
Still perched on the dryer
Forgotten in the inevitable return
To all consuming mundanity

POEM - In the End, We Made It

The long stretch we walked together
When the younger souls
Had run off ahead
All we had was us
And a beautiful day
With more frequent stops
And longer pauses
As we drew closer to the end

When we crossed the wooden bridge
The sun on the wood grain
As we walked along
Seemed to flutter and roll
In an optical illusion
You looked up to avoid getting dizzy
I tried to be more helpful
Find good places to rest
Check the map
Give accurate estimations
Of just how much further it was

Most of the kids ran to you
Once we came into view
They were waiting
On this side of the bridge
To make sure we were OK
So we could all cross together
Enjoying the last few steps as one
We watched the turtles swim below
Some already sunning and relaxing
And as the cool breeze danced
Around us on the bridge
The muskrats swam and floated
Diving down out of sight
Then reappearing
Busy with their own chores
Indifferent to the weary observers
On the bridge high above

POEM - Deliverance Lite

It is always questionable
To canoe
Down rivers
In the South
With cultural subconscious
Creating disturbing imagery
Just around
Every cypress crowded bend

And despite thoughtful planning
To come in early spring
Before the snakes
Like lazy jungle vines
Take up residence
In the low slung branches
Lurching over the water
Only to somehow
Just as you pass
Drop into your boat
And despite the spiders
Being pervasive and plentiful
Especially when catching
Every last opportunity
To ram through their homes
On every possible shore line
Nonetheless they were small
Relatively harmless
Surprisingly prolific weavers
Of webs all across the boat
Still harmless if annoying
But I digress
And mistakes were made
And floating sideways
Into a submerged log
In the lone rapid section
Of an otherwise docile stream
Was
In hindsight
Ill advised
And the water rushed in
And the vessel began to sink
But we
Through great effort
Brought it to shore
Dumped the water
Got in
Pushed off from shore
Tipped again
Repeated the rescue
Were more cautious
And made it safely afloat
On the charmed third attempt
Chilled but happy
Laughing
At our own misfortune
Still glad there were no snakes
Happy for a good story to tell
A little more alive
On a black water trail
This wonderful spring day